


Under This Most Beloved Star

by eawen_penallion



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-25
Updated: 2016-08-25
Packaged: 2018-08-10 23:23:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7865506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eawen_penallion/pseuds/eawen_penallion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Request: First time, a distinct age difference (though I don't care who's older, so long as it's plausible), mild angst, preferably set in Imladris, but not during the timeline of the books (basically, no imminent threat of danger), romance, flirtation (though one of them can be more shy)</p>
<p>Summary: Under Eärendil's star, a declaration is made. Will a boon asked a Yuletide ever come to fruition?</p>
<p>Author's Note: This story was written in response to the Slashy Santa swap of 2007, for which I received the request below. I hesitated to follow in the illustrious footsteps of those who have written this pairing so superbly. I hope that my humble effort is acceptable to my recipient, with my apologies if I missed any of the elements requested!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under This Most Beloved Star

****************

"He is watching you again."

Elrohir sighed, wishing not for the first time that twins did not run in his father's line. Immediately he repented of that thought, for the young elf lord knew that without his brother at his side he would be lost. He focused once more upon the leather harness, lifting it into the beam of winter sunlight that shone through the open stable door, so as to examine it better. Noticing a few smudges upon the brassware, Elrohir applied more polish to his cloth.

"Mayhap the elfling would not be so persistent in his attentions if you were not so obvious in your delight at my discomfort, Elladan," he said quietly. Elladan smirked.

"But you squirm so deliciously, tôren!"

Elrohir paused in his task, trying hard to find the right words to discourage Elladan, without giving his older brother even more reason to mock and challenge him. As he pondered his speech Elrohir looked out across the unusually-deserted stable courtyard (most of the incumbent staff having been seconded to in-house duties in preparation for the holiday) to where a young elf loitered, unconvincingly trying to avoid the appearance of spying upon the sons of Elrond of Imladris. The efforts of the elf were in vain for all of Imladris, it seemed, knew of the adolescent desire of the young Prince Legolas for Lord Elrohir Elrondion. What none knew, however was that (despite his innate sensibility and honour) Elrohir could wish that their ages were not so disparate.

Legolas of Eryn Galen was beautiful - but Legolas of Eryn Galen was also a child.

Now, noting the silken strands of gold that shone in the Yuletide sunlight, knowing that the eyes that lingered upon him were as pure blue as the Imladris sky - Elrohir knew that the youngest prince of the Greenwood would be the object of much obsession and lust when he reached his maturity in ten years. Even then, Elrohir doubted that King Thranduil would release the boy from the constraints of childhood so easily - as was his right, Thranduil might very well defer the conferring of the Rights and Responsibilities that a young ellon expected on reaching the age of fifty. Thranduil's queen had died during the delivery of the prince, and thus Legolas had become the treasure of his family and his people. The prince had been much indulged by his father and siblings and (although Legolas remained of sweet disposition and exquisite manners) the boy had become somewhat expectant of having all his whims, all his desires fulfilled. Elrohir had met Legolas once before during a visit to the Greenwood, but the child had barely been walking - he had become fond of the giggling, giddy babe but he doubted that the boy would remember that incident.

Now, however, it seemed that Elrohir was the focus of Legolas' desires - the focus of a youthful infatuation. Elrohir knew that once the winter festivities were over and the Woodland party returned to their realm, the elfling's attentions would return to more normal pursuits of scholarly and sporting lien. Until that time though, Legolas' actions were likely to leave him exposed to potential ridicule.

It was that thought that spurred Elrohir to action. A quiet yet discouraging word to the boy now would probably spare Legolas from a more severe reprimand later. He tossed his cleaning cloth down, pushing the now-polished harness into his brother's surprised arms.

"Hold this," Elrohir said urgently. "I will be back in a moment."

The elf lord took a few steps towards the stable door but stopped suddenly when he saw that he was not the only elf to approach the young prince.

"Legolas!"

Prince Caelmir strode swiftly across the deserted stable yard and firmly grasped his younger brother's arm above the elbow, giving Legolas a strong shake and causing him to jump and exclaim in surprise. Elrohir saw the ire and exasperation on the Sindar's face and, although Caelmir dropped the volume of his voice after that first greeting, the acuity of elven hearing allowed the Rivendell elf lord to clearly hear the impatient admonition.

"Aiya, Little Leaf - what did I tell you only last night? You should not be here, forcing unwanted attentions upon Lord Elrohir. Your infantile behavior is most displeasing to him!"

The startling blue eyes widened. "He knows?" Legolas squeaked in dismay.

"He knows, Lord Elrond knows, all the inhabitants of Imladris probably know - I have no doubt that even the Galadhrim of Lothlórien know by now, so open have you been in your slavering and drooling infatuation!"

"And... Ada?"

Releasing Legolas, Caelmir raked his long fingers through his own shining mane, unconsciously dislodging some of the fine-woven braids therein. He was obviously trying to marshal his emotions, so as not to allow his anger to spill unchecked upon the youth. Curtly he nodded his head.

"Aye, Adar knows and he is not pleased, but he will say naught to you. He trusts that I will be able to talk sense into your flighty little head. Why, I do not understand - considering how little you took note of our discussion last evening."

Legolas shook his head, his face paler than his normal creamy complexion.

"I did note, Caelmir - truly I did! But..." The boy's expression became a subtle mix of contrition, quiet determination and the infallibility of youth. "My love for Lord Elrohir is true, and I know if I could just talk to him, *be* with him..."

"Enough!"

Caelmir turned once more to his brother, clasping both upper arms of the boy so as to better focus the attention of the wayward youth to his words.

"Enough!" he repeated quietly, still hoping that there were no others in keen earshot. "Legolas, I have failed you - all your brothers have, for each of us is equally culpable in over-indulging you as a child without regard to how it would affect you as you grew into a man. From this sin of omission it is clear that you have not learned how to behave in a respectful and restrained manner towards your elders. This...this... rapacious *lust* that you have exhibited towards a noble lord is the act of a human bawd to a worthless woman, not that of an elven princeling of tender years.

"Adar is ashamed of you, Legolas Thranduilion. *I* am ashamed of you, as are your kith and kin."

Elrohir felt a contraction within his breast as a single tear rolled from an azure eye along a downy cheek. The boy dropped his head in blushing shame, causing the tear to fall to the coarse cobbles.

"I - I am sorry, Caelmir," the younger prince sobbed, and Elrohir could see Legolas shoulders trembling as the boy tried to control his sorrow. Caelmir nodded his head in acknowledgement of the apology but made no gesture to comfort his struggling brother.

"Your remorse is accepted, tôren nín - but now you must accept your punishment."

Legolas raised his head, stoic acceptance apparent on his face. Although his eyes glistened with unshed tears he had managed to control his embarrassment and disappointment.

"I will obey any restrictions you place upon me, Caelmir," he said in a quiet dignified voice. Caelmir nodded once more.

"Legolas, the Court of the Greenwood has come to Imladris as the guests of Lord Elrond and Lady Celebrían for the festival of Yuletide. In honour of our noble father and in due recognition of his place as our king, there will be ceremonies that you must attend as a prince of the realm but other than those... Legolas, you are barred from participating in any of the other events be they dances or treasure hunts, archery competitions or snowball fights - or private dinners with the children of Lord Elrond. You will stay in your chambers when all are enjoying the comforts of the festival, in penance and in meditation - and you will stay away from Lord Elrohir."

"Caelmir -"

The elder prince raised his hand to halt his brother's anguished remonstrance, his dark eyes flashing at the speed at which Legolas' contrition had turned to resistance.

"You will not talk to him, you will not walk with him, you will not approach him. You are to be invisible to him, for I am sure that by now that he is sickened by your intrusion into his life. Elrohir sees you as nothing but a spoiled and willful brat, intent on making his life miserable. Legolas - leave him *alone*!"

Legolas flushed at the unrestrained admonition, obviously understanding that the openness of his young love for Elrohir had brought him to this woeful state. Now he was to be punished in the most painful way possible for an elfling by the loss of the delights of the winter holiday but also - more devastating for one who was experiencing for the first time the burgeoning of sexual desire - by the unconscionable deprivation of the object of his most tender affection. Unable by both his upbringing and by his own newly-identified sense of propriety to degenerate into open rebellion against his brother and - more importantly, his beloved father - still the boy managed a mutter objection to the dressing-down he had just received.

"I am not a child! I should not be treated like one!"

The rejoinder was swift and sharp.

"Then do not behave like one! By the Valar, Legolas! You vex me more than I can bear! Now go - midday meal is almost upon us but you are to go straight to your rooms. Your meal will be brought to you there. Remain in your chambers for the afternoon and someone will collect you prior to the evening repast."

Legolas finally submitted, his shoulders drooping as he trudged his way back to the main house. Caelmir watched him for a moment before following his younger brother. It was only when both the Greenwood elves had exited the yard that Elrohir released a breath that he did not know he had been holding. At the same moment the elf lord registered that a supportive hand had been laid upon his shoulder some time before and that the comforting presence behind him was his elder twin.

"Ai, Elladan," Elrohir said softly. "I would that we had not been witness to that."

"But witnesses we are, albeit unwittingly. It was no more than he deserved, Elrohir. It was even lenient."

Elrohir shook his head. "Rhiw is such a special time for elflings, Elladan - to have to miss the joyous events that accompany it..."

"Is still no more than he deserves!" Elladan moved around his brother to face him. "Had we crossed Ada like that, do you think that he or Nana or Erestor for that matter would have simply sent us to our rooms? A solid hand to tender buttock would have been more probable." He softened his voice, a tremor of uncertainty evident as he looked closer at his brother.

" 'Ro?" he asked, the use of the diminutive form of his brother's name showing his concern. "You are not - you cannot be... Do not tell me you have feelings for the boy! Elrohir, he is only forty years old - !"

"No, no!" Elrohir protested, trying hard to keep plausible the denial in his answer. "I simply feel sorry for the child. You must remember the experience of first changes of the body, 'Dan. We both had misguided amours in our puberty - I distinctly remember an elegant galadhel in Grandfather's guard and for you..."

Elladan winced. "Glorfindel was... most sympathetic - after he stopped growling every time I even *glanced* at Erestor!"

Elrohir smiled, knowing that for once he had succeeded in turning the embarrassment upon Elladan.

"Therefore," he emphasized softly, "do you not think that Legolas deserves some compassion?"

Elladan sobered, understanding the dilemma that faced his brother. He realized that he would have to strongly persuade Elrohir from approaching the young prince. He shook his head.

"No, Elrohir!"

Elrohir looked at Elladan, his handsome face displaying an innocent expression that the older twin recognized from when they were young and irrepressible pranksters. Elrohir had perfected that expression to a point where childish misdemeanors were forgiven with a smile.

This was no childish intervention by the Elf-knight. Elladan faced down his brother, for Elrohir's interference could only worsen matters for the Greenwood prince. His heart fell as he realized that Elrohir might possibly be more...

No, he would not believe it, nor would he let Elrohir commit himself to an action which could only compound Legolas' errors.

"Elrohir, you cannot interfere in this matter. He has been chastised by his brother but you can be sure that the punishment was instigated by King Thranduil. As king he has the right to order his subject, as a father he is right to chastise his son. To interfere would be an insult to our father's guest - not to mention the humiliation it would bring your young prince once he realized that he and Caelmir were not alone he this morning."

Reason and rational discussion penetrated Elrohir's sensibilities where impassioned plea had not. To intrude into another's private family matter would be presumption of the highest order. As much as he regretted the fact, he would have to stand aside and allow Caelmir to enforce his prohibition upon Legolas.

Running through all his thoughts, through all his emotions, were images of spun gold strands of silken hair and pools of blue despair.

****

Legolas was true to his word, and he bore his sentence without any public discontent. If it was noted by the household of Elrond that the youngest prince of the Woodland Realm was not a wholehearted participant in the extensive range of entertainment that the ancient lord had provided for his guests (nor indeed, even present at many of the events) no speculation was forthcoming. Legolas' earlier behavior had been the subject of much gossip and ribaldry at Elrohir's expense at the time - now that the elfling was receiving his just reward, such gossip was deemed unnecessary and unfair to the child.

Legolas' behavior was exemplary - but now it was the younger twin who was causing his brother concern. Fortunately, it was only Elladan who noticed the change in Elrohir, for the signs were subtle. A glance here, a hesitation there: a constant searching of dove-gray eyes for a fair young head. Elrohir was far more experienced that Legolas in the art of dissembling but still...

Elladan approached his twin after the ceremony of Yuletide Eve. As was custom, that afternoon Elrond had presided over the diminution of the great fire from its usual conflagration to a collection of barely smoldering embers. This faint glow had then to be tenderly guarded until the evening for the Fire of the Great Hall of Imladris, a potent symbol of the continuity of Elven habitation of Middle Earth, could never be allowed to go out. This fire would only be extinguished at some undefined time in the future, when the last of the Firstborn had taken the Silver Road to Aman. Until then Elrond Eärendilion was the Guardian of the Fire, as well as a Ringbearer and the Master of the Last Homely House. From the divided line of Eärendil would come Hope for the future of all Free People of Middle Earth.

At dusk the household and its guests had gathered in a clearing near to the Great Hall. As the night had deepened Elrond had uttered an invocation to Eru, calling upon the Maker of all to bestow His blessing upon His Children for the coming Year. Erestor, as Seneschal of the elf haven, had prepared a brazier before time that was to be lit by elven fire kindled from the innate purity that is held within the core of a powerful feä. Thus when the time came three stepped forth from the gathered elves and the handful of human inhabitants - Lord Elrond and King Thranduil, two warrior-lords who stood for their people; and Glorfindel, Lord of Gondolin and Ward Marshal of Imladris - who had once stood in the light of Two Trees and who brought with him the special grace of an Eldar.

Holding their outstretched hands over the cold coals and kindling, they each ignited the inherent power within them. White fire surrounded their fingertips, sparking the fuel to life. Golden flames rose, then settled to a white glow. Taking up a small torch, Elrond lit the brand from the brazier and turned to face the congregated elves and humans.

"Behold!" he cried. "The year has turned once more - no longer do we descend into night. Instead, we welcome the approach of spring when life emerges from the cold soil to fill this Middle Earth with joyful wonders. Now we will re-ignite the Great Fire of Imladris and confirm the bond between the Children of Ilúvatar and majestic Arda."

And so Elrond led the procession into the Great Hall, where a huge log was laid before the stone hearth. This log was not hewn or splintered but instead had been found in the depths of the forests that lined both banks of the Bruinen by Elrond's rangers. Every year it was the same, an unsullied log discovered as if it was an uncanny offering of the Trees to the guardians of the earth. Two warriors stepped forth to lift the Yule log onto the glimmering embers of the dampened fire. Although these embers would have been enough over time to set the log aflame, this was not the purpose of this night’s ceremonies. Instead Elrond stepped forward once more, and two others joined him in front of the fireplace.

Elrohir had gasped: and Elladan had winced at his brother's soft exclamation, knowing full well what it was that had caused Elrohir's consternation. It was traditional at this point in the proceedings that two elves participated in the lighting of the fire - an older edhel of maturity and wisdom and a younger elfling, below the age of maturity but old enough to understand the gravity of the event. Both of the twins had taken their turn in this latter position, as had their sister Arwen, and it had generally been agreed prior to the arrival of the season's guests that this year the position had been offered to King Thranduil's youngest son.

Graden, the thirty-four year old son of Rivendell's finest vintner, stood by the black-haired counsellor, his young face aglow with excitement at this honour.

Elladan had followed his brother's gaze away from one child to another. Stoic in his quiet acceptance, Legolas stood beside Caelmir to witness the younger elfling touch his hand to the others, guiding the fiery brand as it set the Yule log alight. A cheer rose from the crowd and the formality of the occasion collapsed into happy embraces and the exchange of seasonal salutations. In the midst of the joyful melee, Elladan saw Caelmir lean over to his younger sibling and whisper in his ear. The blue eyes widened in dismay then, head bowed in unhappy acceptance, Legolas made to leave the room. The young prince had paused at the door, turning to survey the celebration before he exited. Elladan saw his eyes fall first upon him, and then his twin; a single mournful tear rolled down his cheek. Once last blink of golden lashes in a futile attempt to stem the threatened flood, then Legolas was gone.

Elrohir had tensed beside him, his fists clenched in anger. The anger was not directed at the boy but rather at the order which had excluded Legolas from the next part of the evening, when dancing and feasting and especially the exchange of gifts from family and friends would ensue. Feeling the indignant rage rising in Elrohir, Elladan had swiftly moved to guide him through the throng to a quiet corridor where they might not be overheard. In vain Elladan tried to quell his brother's wrath.

"Did you see, Elladan?" the Elf Knight ranted. "Did you see what they are putting the boy through? A crush, a mere adolescent infatuation and they treat him like he was a criminal, shunning him and excluding him from all that is to be enjoyed! It is outrageous! It is totally unfair, 'Dan. So unfair."

Elladan grabbed hold of Elrohir, stalling him in his frustrated pacing.

"Calm down, Elrohir!" he urged. "There is nothing you can do, for to reproach the family of Eryn Galen would be a vital breach of protocol and to approach the boy would break the terms of his agreement with his brother, remember? 'You will not talk to him, you will not walk with him, you will not approach him.' That is what he was told. To speak to him now would be in breach of his promise."

Elrohir breathed heavily, obviously trying to heed Elladan's words yet still outraged by the inequity of the harsh sentence to Legolas now-seemly pitiful 'crime'. To see the tear tracks mar that beautiful face, which deserved to be lit by happiness and laughter and wit, the lithe figure that would provide such a spectacle of elegance as it drifted across the dance floor...

"Oh, Elrohir..."

His reverie was broken by Elladan's sudden sympathy, an empathic emotion that to Elrohir seemed to be out of context in this circumstance. Puzzled, the younger twin lifted an enquiring eyebrow to Elladan, uncanny in its resemblance to their father's trademark, not realizing that Elladan had felt through the link of same-birth brothers emotions within his twin that Elrohir had not yet admitted nor registered to his own heart.

"What?" he snapped. "What other wisdom do you have for me that aim to disprove the truth of my words? Am I to be as marble, cold and unfeeling? Tell me, Elladan - what should I do?"

Elladan's face, a near-mirror to his own, was soft as he took his brother into a silent embrace. Confused, Elrohir allowed the hug, his own anger subdued by this turnaround. Elladan pulled away slightly but still held Elrohir in a soft clasp of hands to arms.

"There is little more I can advise you upon, tôren nín. You are a determined champion to Legolas, and I will do nothing more to hold you back. Your... feelings are your own, and should not be dismissed."

Elrohir blinked in confusion.

"My feelings? Surely you refer to those of Legolas"

Elladan shook his head and laughed lightly.

"Oh, Elrohir - although many have sought to thwart this match, it seems that fate shall not be denied."

With that, the elder twin gave his brother on last hug before leaving Elrohir alone and bemused. The sudden withdrawal of censure by his twin, to be replaced with... With what? Permission? What did he mean?

A noise from down the corridor reminded Elrohir of the festivities that still were still in progress, and injustice that occurred there that had prompted his outburst. An idea began to formulate and, with a conspiring smile on his lips, Elrohir took one glance back in the direction of the Great Hall before striding off to initiate his plan.

****

Alone in the luxurious prison that was his room, Legolas Thranduilion pondered the circumstances which had brought him to this pass. His emotions warred within him: a roiling turmoil of innate sense of responsibility, aching desire and overwhelming self-doubt that added to his distress.

Legolas had met the twin princes of Imladris once before when they had visited the Greenwood with their parents many years ago. He had barely been out of breeching cloths, and was very much under the watchful eyes of his nursemaids. As an infant he was mostly excluded from the visit, an unusual event that had resulted in a similarly unusual display of petulance at the lack of contact with his normally doting father and siblings. Realizing that the outburst had resulted from a sense of loss rather that any baser regard, King Thranduil had dried the tears that had tumbled from the watery blue eyes by announcing that the royal family and their noble guests would have a respite from more formal activities. He instead instituted a leisurely day by a sparkling brook, with a concomitant outdoor feast. In this manner Legolas could be included in the pleasurable excursion without risk of disrupting any ceremonies.

Legolas could remember little of the day itself - except one vivid recollection of being lifted by strong arms onto towering horseback. Those same arms cradled him safely about the midriff as the household made the short journey to the picnic site; he mused on the memories of silken dark brown tresses and warm grey eyes; of rich laughter and teasing verbiage; of gentle attention to the youngest child of his host; and later, the soft touch of velvet lips to his forehead in a sweet farewell gesture.

Legolas had not remembered the ellon's name, although he had rediscovered it during a discussion with one of his brothers in later years. The name had not been important for it had been the connection, the overwhelming feeling of rightness of being in those arms that had lingered in his sub consciousness. The feelings had of course not been sensual (not that he would have understood that context at that time) but they had been intense. The intensity had only been reinforced on their reunion here in Imladris, a few short weeks ago.

Elrohir. Most definitely the Noldo had been his gentle companion of childhood memory - the younger twin, the scholar, the healer; his Elf Knight. Why people proclaimed that the twins were identical Legolas knew not for he could always tell them apart and he knew that his elf lord was beyond any comparison, even with his dashing older brother.

Legolas groaned, sinking his head into his hands. How could he have made such a mess of his courtship of Lord Elrohir. He was young, it was true - but he knew his own mind, his own heart. Now he was in disgrace with his family and he had discovered for the first time in his life what it was like to disappoint his Ada. Of that he was most regretful for he adored his magnificent father as much as he knew he was loved.

Legolas' concentrated indulgence in self-pity was broken as he registered a noise from just outside his window. The sound was small; a mere rustling of leaves, but the latent breeze this night was barely a zephyr. The movement of foliage could only have been discerned from the background of distant merriment by elven ears - and could only have been caused by a light-treading elf. Curious but with a wary hand on the sheathed dagger at his hip, Legolas stepped onto his balcony.

Two hands shot out from behind him, covering both eyes and mouth. His instinctive struggle against his capture was halted by the words hissed into his ear by his unknown assailant.

"Do not speak, Las dithen, else I must leave you. Do not speak, do not move, do not open your eyes when I release you, for to do so would break faith with the promise made to Caelmir and I would be an accessory to that breach. If you understand, bow your head."

Legolas immediately complied, eager to agree with anything that would prolong this moment. He was here! But... Why? Legolas was almost sick with hope and fear for this encounter with Elrohir could mean anything. As the arms gently released him the youth rocked on his heels, dizzy in anticipation of unknown consequences.

"Legolas -"

The voice was further away now and Legolas surmised that the ellon had stepped further into the shadows of the greenery that draped the canopy and pillars of the balcony, so that not even the most discerning eyes could see that Legolas was not alone.

"Legolas," Elrohir repeated, "I cannot say that I do not understand why Caelmir had to sentence you this way but please believe me, the punishment was neither discussed with nor condoned by me. It is too harsh and totally disproportionate to any perceived 'insult' to me." He laughed, and Legolas thought he had never heard a more beautiful sound in his life.

"Indeed I suppose that I am flattered, for who amongst us does not hope that we will be found... pleasing... by an admirer. You do me great honour, Legolas, and I thank you. Were we different people at a different time where age was not a part of a complex equation...? However, we are those people and Legolas, you are yet young..."

Legolas choked, for within those words he had heard the hope for which he had yearned and in the soft tones of enunciation he recognized a similar regret at the disparate nature of their ages. Eyes still closed, he made a bold decision. Stepping forward carefully until he reached the balustrade of the balcony, he raised his arms in supplication to the star-lit sky.

"Eärendil, traveller of the skies, I beg for your aid! An it be thy wish, please act as an intermediary from myself to one of thy blood in a matter of two hearts. For as you plighted your troth to Elwing daughter of Dior in a true binding, so do I seek the smallest hope that my fëa has found its match in thy grandson, Elrohir of Rivendell."

A hitched breath and startled cry came from behind him, and Legolas felt the consternation of the object of his affection. He lowered his arms and, in softer tones and with his eyes still closed, Legolas sought for the words that would both soothe Elrohir's distress yet advance his case.

"Why, though I am admittedly few in years, does no one recognize that I am old enough to know my own mind, my own heart? Why must my concerns be dismissed out of hand? Why can't he...care for me? Am I so ugly, that he cannot bear to look at me? Or uncultured? Or an imbecile, unfit to press my suit? Is it so impossible that some day Lord Elrohir might... look upon me with even a small portion of the ... affection that I feel for him?

"Have I no chance at all?"

The boy's shoulders drooped at the last, the portent of this moment finally overcoming the strength of his spirit. He had offered all in his open declaration and could scarcely bear this torturous wait for a reply to his prayer. In the darkness behind his eyelids he hid, here was no sound from the edhel in question, no movement to indicate that Elrohir was still there - although of course he was, for Legolas would have detected any retreat by the ellon.

Although Elrohir had known intellectually that Legolas had strong feelings for him, he was still surprised at the fervor with which Legolas had expressed himself. More so, he was shocked by his own reaction, an inexplicable surge of elation and gratification when the Woodland prince spoke of the solemn and binding ceremony of matrimony. Could it be that the sympathy that he felt for the youth masked a more intimate connection? Could a union of feär be possible at some time in the future?

He looked down at the object in his hand, seeing that the trinket that he had thought to give to Legolas had never seemed more appropriate. Could he do this? Could he make a commitment to an ellon so young that was of such a serious nature, a commitment that at this stage broke all the laws and restrictions of the Eldar? Could he give even the smallest indication of how tempted he was by this beautiful boy?

Pondering for a few more moments, Elrohir distilled all his arguments, all his reservations into one bold action. Moving forward he circled Legolas so that he was looking into that sweet face. He smiled; for Legolas had kept his eyelids closed and had thus kept his word. Gods, the boy was lovely! Long lashes lay like golden feathers on high cheekbones; a slender nose surmounted pouting lips that were open in breathy exhalation, their pale rose blush contrasting so perfectly with the flawless creamy complexion. Elrohir tore his own eyes from this exquisite visage to look once more at the object in his trembling hand. With no more hesitation Elrohir lifted the brooch and slid the pin through the damask silk of Legolas' tunic, taking time to ensure that the pin was firmly locked in the brooch's clasp. Once done, Elrohir slid his hands down the young elf's arms and took both his hands, lifting them together between them. A pink tongue slid out to lick dry lips as Elrohir searched for the right words to say.

"Legolas," Elrohir finally said in a voice husky with tension. "This was meant to be a Yuletide gift for you, to console you after your disappointment this evening. Actually it is very apropos - it is in the shape of a star and was originally a gift from Gil-Galad to my father. It was given to me on the day of my Coming of Age. Now I give it to you, pen neth, though perhaps you would rather think of it as a token of my grandfather's indulgence this night." Elrohir smiled and glanced up into the night sky, instantly finding the light of the Silmaril that Eärendil bore upon his brow. He never had to search for the star - it seemed to be an inborn trait of Elrond's children that they could find his father's course across the heavens no matter the time of night or season of the year. In the crisp clarity of this winter's eve Eärendil seemed larger and brighter than normal.

Elrohir sighed and returned his gaze back to the waiting elf, who bore his 'blindness' with equanimity. There was no doubt, Legolas was sincere in his love, and deserved a serious answer.

"Pen vuin, I know what you wish me to say - but you also know why I cannot say those words. Despite your declarations, despite whatever feelings I may have for you there is one undisputed fact - as of this moment you are too young. Too young by the Laws of the Eldar, too young to partake of carnal relations - and too young for me. I will not say that I do not find you attractive or that I have strong feelings for you, for we both know that would be a lie but Legolas - I am over one thousand years older than you and that fact has more bearing than you seem to comprehend. I have always envisioned that my future mate would be my equal, in experience and maturity, in skill and intellect. I never thought that Eru would bring a spoiled brat to enthrall and entice me."

Legolas gasped, his face lighting up at the import of Elrohir's speech, and released a happy laugh.

"El-!"

A swift finger pressed against the curved lips, repressing the impassioned yet forbidden speech.

"Shh! Not now, after such exemplary submission!" Elrohir softened his voice, his own pleasure evident in his tenor. "Legolas, I will make you no promise nor will I allow you to do the same. You must be free during the remaining years of your childhood to explore and discover all the wonders, the joys and the responsibilities that await you in the long life that Ilúvatar has bestowed upon his Firstborn. During those you must also be free to discover if the first stirrings of your sexuality have led you true or if you have yet to meet your lifelong love. Hush, hush!" Elrohir urged the edhel, stroking his pale gold hair to soothe the boy's protestations. "I *will* tell you this, my dear prince: I will not actively seek another companion before you have the chance to undertake your courtship. It is but ten years to your Majority, but I would that you allow yourself some decades beyond that date. It may be that your father will wish you to remain close to his side, seeing as you are the youngest of his children. Use that time wisely - make me proud to be your heart's match. Make me proud of you, Legolas."

Finally hearing a hope of a happy future in words carefully chosen, Legolas nodded eagerly. The only thing making this moment less than perfect was the necessity of physical separation, for Legolas was still honor-bound not to approach the older elf. Elrohir was not so burdened though and in a gesture that was akin to one so long ago he pressed his lips to the prince's forehead in affectionate farewell. The lips were as gentle and perfect as Legolas had remembered and would have been the perfect crown to the evening's illicit tryst - save that a second later those same lips brushed softly across his own.

Then they were gone, and he was gone, and Legolas was alone at last upon the balcony of his chambers in the Last Homely House of Rivendell. He waited a few minutes before opening his eyes, both in adherence to his word and also to savor the memory of the last hour. Warily cracking his eyelids open the Greenwood prince beheld the beauty of Imladris at night, all twinkling lanterns and the dark shadows of elegant architecture entwined lovingly with the sheltering trees and the constant murmur of the magnificent cascades. Legolas thought that he had never seen anything so wonderful save for one of the haven's premier inhabitants - his beloved.

And in the clear night sky above, amongst the myriad panoply of stars, one shone in a brightness not often seen, glittering in warm approbation.

****

Fifty years later, Imladris.

It was a cold and dry afternoon in Imladris, cold enough that the hoarfrost that limed the bare branches of trees and shrubbery had resisted the feeble attempts of the pale winter sun to melt the crisp, white coating. This frost was just a presage to the imminent onset of the first fall of snow, a sign of the approach of Yule and the Year's End.

Elrohir of Imladris stood amongst his kin on the steps of the Great Hall, beside his parents and siblings and with most of the court of Rivendell, awaiting the arrival of their winter guests.

Awaiting the wedding party.

Elbereth! That this day had finally arrived felt distinctly odd to Elrohir, for so many problems had been thrown into their path since that eventful Yuletide in Imladris. Between the internal strife that had afflicted the northern kingdom of Arnor, where Elrohir's distant human kin had almost subdivided the realm into three; to the darkening of Eryn Galen by the arrival of a dark sorcerer in its southern reaches, the two lovers had been thwarted in all attempts to settle upon a fixed date for their nuptials. Instead he and Legolas had been fully occupied by their duties in their respective realms and to their fathers. Elrohir had certainly had enough of ineffective diplomacy, and weary orc-hunting to last him all of his long lifetime. Sadly, none of that seemed to bear upon those who created these annoying distractions and he knew that there would be little respite at any time in the near future.

The instability of life in the past fifty years had resulted in an increasing sense of isolation for the rulers of the elven realms of Middle Earth, from Círdan in Mithlond to Celeborn and Galadriel in Lothlórien; more especially, the traffic between Imladris and the newly-named Mirkwood had slowed to a fraction of the easy travel of prior years. Now Elrond used the power of Vilya and the guardianship of Glorfindel to maintain a tight control of their borders. In Mirkwood Thranduil and his Silvan subjects had fared worse, for they had not the advantage of magical rings to lighten their burden plus they had seen the advent of evil beings - ungol, yrch and other foul creatures - invade their beautiful forest. Siege warfare was becoming a way of life, and Thranduil and his sons had paid the price already. Aerondor, his second son, was one of the first victims of the spiders, before the threat from the encroaching webs was truly understood.

Elrohir winced as he remembered how quickly Legolas had had to grow and mature, through combat, pain and loss; he shook at the thought of possibly losing his Lass dithen in future conflicts. No, he would not dwell on that today. Today, Elrohir was waiting for the young elf with whom he had fallen in love all those years before. Now, as he stood on the steps of his home for Legolas and his family to arrive, he looked back on all that had occurred to bring them to this joyful day.

\--------

Fulsome love had not come as a sudden change during that Yuletide holiday. Elrohir had left Legolas alone on that balcony, understanding that he had to give whatever connection they had the time to grow - to see if the embers would flicker to full flame or would die over time to naught but a pleasant memory. He had taken the time to discreetly draw Caelmir to one side, requesting that the restrictions placed on Legolas might be eased. Although Caelmir had been somewhat taken aback by this direct approach the Sindar had agreed and the remainder of Legolas' stay in Imladris became more agreeable. Legolas had still heeded Caelmir's directions regarding his disposition towards Elrond's younger son but Elrohir soon found himself smiling as he observed the new glow that seemed to surround the young elf. When Legolas caught him watching him Elrohir couldn't help but feel that he was a child again, holding a wonderfully warm and illicit secret within his breast. Although Elladan must have seen this change in the relationship of Rivendell and Greenwood, for once the older twin forbore to make any comment that might have drilled the secret from his brother.

The departure of the Greenwood party had engendered in Elrohir an unexpected sense of loss that was only partly alleviated by the arrival of the first letter from his secret love a month later. This letter initiated a regular correspondence between Eryn Galen and Rivendell that, due to the exigencies required in the exchange of missives, could not long remain a discreet intercourse. Elrond and Celebrían had quietly enquired of Elrohir as to the change in circumstances since they had of course known of Legolas' unfortunate infatuation during his visit. Celebrían especially had had some misgivings about her son's relationship with such a young elf but Elrohir had been able to reassure her by relating, with Legolas' permission, some of the boundaries he had placed on the young elf prior to his Coming of Age. Legolas was similarly held to account and it was only through an explanatory exchange of letters with Rivendell's lord that the young prince had escaped further censure. The letters continued and with each one the two elves expressed more of their inner selves onto parchment and scroll, revealing over time the best and worst of themselves in an open and honest dialogue. By this method, each elf fell a little deeper in love, though the two suitors tried to withhold the more florid declarations that Legolas especially had been prone to in the expressive throes of elven puberty.

And so when the House of Elrond had traveled to Eryn Galen ten years later for the celebrations of Legolas' fiftieth begetting day, there was much expectation and excitement from Noldo, Sindar and Silvan elves. Neither elf had thought to greet each other in the full light of such deplorable scrutiny, therefore at first there had been a cool politeness between them as each tried mistakenly not to let the eagerness of the two courts drag them to an impossible pass. This coolness had alarmed Elrohir, who began to feel that Legolas had been mistaken in his affections and that the now-adult prince was too embarrassed to rescind the declarations of love he had expressed ten years before. Anxious to spare Legolas, Elrohir had too withdrawn into a protective shell until Elladan and Caelmir could stand it no more. One day when excruciating politeness had dominated the morning's activities the two brothers had push their siblings into a quiet garden and had told them to 'talk, godammit!'

Elrohir and Legolas had looked at each other, each attempting to hide their inner discomfort until Elrohir could endure the silence no more.

"Do you still love me, Legolas?"

The directness caused Legolas to freeze - what should he say? He knew his own feelings but in the past few days he had become unsure that they were reciprocated. Stammering he tried to evade an answer, muttering and prevaricating until Elrohir could not deny his impatience. He caught Legolas' down-turned chin and raised it so that the young edhel had to meet his gaze. Within the startling blue orbs Elrohir caught site of uncertainty, shyness and - a hope. Catching the slender body towards him, Elrohir had swiftly captured those full lips in a powerful and lingering kiss, leaving Legolas in no doubt as to the depth of the love that had grown in his heart during the course of their separation. Legolas had groaned, melting against the firm body of his warrior lover and with an exuberance that he had for too long restrained he had thrown his arms around Elrohir's broad frame, determined not to leave go of his beloved Peredhel ever again.

With that breech in the temporary walls they had erected, they could deny their love no longer. Down the walls tumbled and their happiness shone about them for all to witness. Elrohir and Legolas stood before their fathers in petition for their permission to become betrothed. The two lords were delighted that their sons had formed a genuine attachment but, to the lovers surprise and dismay, one of them had declined their request for an immediate announcement of their betrothal.

"My son has only just achieved the Age of Majority and although I intend to bestow all the rights and privileges of that status forthwith, I had wished for Legolas to partake more fully in the responsibilities as a prince of the realm. He is young yet and still has much to learn before he will be ready to set up his own household."

Legolas' disappointment had been palpable and only Elrohir's restraining hand upon his shoulder had stemmed a potential diatribe that would only have confirmed Thranduil's belief that Legolas was too immature for a marriage that would be inviolate and immutable. Knowing that Elrohir too was saddened by Thranduil's intractability, Elrond sought for a compromise that would allow the lovers to remain hopeful for a speedy resolution to this stalemate.

In the end, it was decided that Elrohir would stay for some time with Legolas in the Greenwood, and participate in an extended courtship. Elrond had pointed out to both his son and his beloved that this course of action was more in line with the promotion of an elven marriage as per the tradition of the Firstborn rather than what could have been seen as a impetuous betrothal, especially given Legolas' tender age. The courtship to that time had been conducted mostly by correspondence, an unfortunate fact that was seen by the Sindar king as a shortcoming in regard to a potential union. Thranduil also had one final requirement for the two ellyn - that the relationship remain chaste until a betrothal became a reality. Legolas was not amenable to this order but once again Elrohir was able to placate his future bereth.

"Meleth nín, you know how I desire to be with you in all ways but think," he urged, "how much more fulfilling will our first bodily union be with the grace of a true binding, and the intimate enhancement of an act that in of itself is one of the most intent any being, elven or human, can bear? Imagine, my dear Lass dithen, our lovemaking increased beyond anything you can ever dream of?"

Elrohir's entreaties held sway upon Legolas, and so the two elves submitted to King Thranduil's will and began a joint journey towards their heart's desire. The maturity of Legolas and his beloved impressed the king and after five years of faithful adherence to his wishes, Thranduil had given his blessing to their betrothal. At another Yuletide ceremony, in the presence of both families, Legolas and Elrohir had exchanges silver rings to be worn upon their right index fingers, a visual sign of the promises they had made. Their wedding had been expected to follow in due course, but then a darkness had begun to fall across Middle Earth, a disturbance that affected the relations between kin and kingdoms, First- and Secondborn; mischievous, deliberate and malicious acts set to foment discontent and division amongst those who would call themselves allies. By this were the betrothed couple also divided, and it was only that this winter had seen a reduction in orcish incursions and other nefarious activities that Elrohir and Legolas had persuaded the King of Mirkwood that that there could be no more propitious time for the nuptials to take place. In this they were championed by both Elrond and his wife Celebrían, and Caelmir. Finally Thranduil had agreed, in as much that such an alliance could only strengthen his position and allow his subjects a chance to indulge in light-hearted celebrations in the midst of so much strife.

\-----

Elrohir was roused from his musings by the sound on the paved paths of approaching horses - and by an insolent nudge to his ribs from his twin.

"Aiya, tôren neth - have your reminiscences become so pleasant that their lure surpasses what delights will arrive into the courtyard momentarily?" Elladan joked. Elrohir blushed, causing his older brother to snicker. "Ah, I see! Your memories have only served to enhance this day, and the subject of your absent moment approaches even now."

The king approached, a circlet of mithril enhancing the shining burnt gold of his famed mane, his rich velvet doublet and fur-lined cape declaring his rank and circumstance – but Elrohir did not see him. Caelmir was not beside him, for as the heir he had stayed in Mirkwood as regent for his father – but at this moment Elrohir did not miss him. Instead his eyes sought and met those beloved blue, sparkling with excitement and anticipation; he witnessed lips parted in a joyous cry that decorum and protocol did not allow; he saw that slender, strong figure clothed in fur-trimmed damask of pale blue and he saw perfection.

Elrohir could bear it no longer. Abandoning all rules of propriety, he strode firmly towards his fiancé, eager to assist his dismount. Elladan darted a look to his father, then to Thranduil but relaxed when he saw the amusement on their faces.

"Seron vell, our day has finally come!"

Legolas grinned up at the Imladris prince. "*I* have finally come!" he laughed, throwing his arms about his intended. Elrohir laughed too, covering his beloved’s lips in fervent ardor. Moving his lips to Legolas’ delicate ear, his voice resonated with need and desire.

"Tomorrow night, we will both be able to say that, won’t we, meleth?"

Legolas snickered, his happiness at their reunion filling his heart with an almost unbearable effervescence. Capturing Elrohir’s face in both hands, he pressed his lips to Elrohir’s once more and reveled in their sweet taste, their firm yet yielding resilience.

"Muindor!" Elladan’s voice broke through the encapsulating circle of their intense focus, reminding them that they were not alone. Resting his forehead to that of his lover, Elrohir nodded at his brother’s notice.

"Tomorrow’s eve, meleth nín – only until tomorrow."

Nodding in acquiescence, Legolas took the hand of his beloved Elf Knight and they followed the two lords into the Last Homely House. v

*****

The ceremony was held under the winter sky, in the same clearing that was used for all the major ceremonies held in Imladris including the Yuletide festival that had precipitated this happy occasion. The two participants entered the clearing in the company of those who loved them most, each father exhibiting both pride and deep emotion at the prospect of this happy union of the two great realms, and of the satisfaction of knowing that their sons had found the true love that would sustain them for the rest of their time upon Arda.

Elrohir bore himself as a true scion of a noble house and the dignity and nobility of his lineage shone in his face. Dressed in winter white, his tunic heavily embroidered with silver thread and garnished with sparkling gems, his black hair braided and crowned with a mithril circlet; Elrohir stood quietly beside his affianced lover as the two fathers took their place as prime celebrants of the ritual. Elrohir turned to face Legolas, his face aglow with unrepressed gladness. Legolas reflected and enhanced that elation and Elrohir could only gape in patent admiration at the sheer beauty of the Silvan elf, resplendent in similar raiment of silver blue and white.

The rolling tenor of Elrond washed gently over them as the ancient lord began to address the gathering.

"My friends, it is with great pleasure that I welcome you all to this joyous Midwinter rite, wherein we throw of the darkening nights of winter and greet the turn of the world and the promise of longer and brighter days ahead. With each turn of this world that Iluvatar made for us we grow in knowledge, wisdom and love. The love that Eru bears for us is made manifest in so many ways and tonight we will bear witness to one of His blessings, that of the union of two souls this night in true and eternal binding. For King Thranduil and for me, our happiness is increased in knowing that our sons, Elrohir and Legolas, are those supplicants to Eru’s grace. Elrohir Elrondion and Legolas Thranduilion, stand forth."

Elrohir extended his hand to Legolas, clasping the slim fingers in symbol of their oneness. Thranduil withdrew from the embroidered scabbard at his waist a small silver knife, richly embellished with diamonds on its hilt. Turning both hands to face up, he swiftly but lightly sliced across both hands to leave a thin sliver of blood welling on the hands of the affianced. Thranduil turned Legolas’ hand over and pressed the hands together palm-to-palm. Elrond then drew forth from his robes a silken sash and looped it about the joined hands.

"In both blood and binding ties you each hold the other’s fate in your hands. I now invite you to declare before these witnesses the vows that will join you as bonded mates until the world’s end."

With a fervent glow to light those silver-grey eyes, Elrohir, as the elder, spoke his vow first. His voice was strong and true, for he would have all who attended know that there was no hesitation, no deficiency of intent in this night’s work.

"In Elrohir Elrondion gweth mi meleth uireb anim allen. Gur na úr, rhaw na thraw, faer na faer; nathon ah len an uir. Valar, lasto ‘west nin, a toltho éil lin am ‘wethed vin."

Despite the solemnity of the ritual Legolas could not help but grin as Elrohir completed his vow and Elrohir could only return the broad smile. Drawing in a deep breath to steady him, Legolas too spoke the ancient words without hesitation or mishap.

"I, Legolas Thranduilion, do bind myself to you in love eternal. Heart to heart, body to body, soul to soul; I am yours forever. Let the Valar witness my oath, and send their blessing upon us."

At the completion of the vows a faint glow began to shimmer about the two ellyn, a glow that emanated from the conjoined hands yet travelled to encompass their entire frames in a shield of concord that would forever bind their two hearts, their two bodies and their two souls as one. Above the gathered elves, high in the firmament, Eärendil the Mariner shone with a brightness not known for five decades in approbation of the marital bond established this night.

And yet the ceremony was not complete, for Thranduil stood forth again to remove the symbolic sash to reveal healed and sealed love. Elladan and Arwen then brought forth the rings, two circles of gold that the newly-wed pair exchanged, pressing them to their new homes upon the index finger of each right hand.

And so it was done, and the joined households of Imladris and Eryn Galen proceeded hence to the ceremony of the flame, and the Yule log and in celebrating the rebirth of Yavanna’s living promise so was confirmed the promises made so long ago by a golden haired boy and his grey-eyed warrior.

******

The strains of merriment still abounded, filtering through the velvet curtains that framed the lacework doors that led to a familiar balcony. The sounds were not heeded by those who strove within for the ellyn who twined themselves upon soft sheets and satin counterpane were oblivious to all except each other. Their naked bodies shone with elven light as they kissed fervently, their mouths indulging in extensive exploration of the warmth of mouth, of sweetly-curved neck, of inclined shoulder, of rosy nubs on strong breasts. Hands roamed where lips had yet to follow, and if one heart beat faster than the other, it was through innocence of acts beyond those yet performed. Elrohir knew well that Legolas was untouched even through decades of frustration, self-denial and temptation. He also knew that their patience and forbearance would be amply rewarded when the bonds of marital love were given release and when the channels that are unique to bonded-lovers were opened in full measure.

Elrohir eased Legolas back upon the pillows, his fingers gently lacing through the pale gold strands of his bereth’s hair. They fell like a shimmering halo around his head and Elrohir could only marvel at the tenacity and devotion of the elf who had pursued him to this marvellous pass and thank the Valar that Legolas had the foresight to know how perfect they would be together.

"Melethron nín, ernilen..."

"Uireb, Elrohir. Echado veleth enni…"

"Willingly."

With alacrity Elrohir continued his adoration of Legolas, his lips, tongue and digits worshipping each curve, each muscle, each sweet dip into navel, the scent of the hair that surrounded his slender shaft. The devoutness of his task increased Legolas’ need almost beyond endurance until the Silvan elf was panting, begging for mercy from his avaricious lover.

"Elrohir!"

The dark elf took little outward heed for it was his plan that Legolas would be enticed beyond care or wit, save only for want of the Rivendell lord. Legolas cried out in wanton ecstasy as a heated mouth encircled his penis, the wet warmth causing his body to shake as it had not done during the previous avid attentions. Elrohir worked without surcease: alternatively drawing in his cheeks as he caressed the purpled flesh, then withdrawing the lips so that the tongue could better bathe the straining organ. Legolas thrashed beneath his ministrations, an act not unknown as they had sought to relieve themselves during a time of abstinence from total completion – but this act was incomparable as the marital bond pulled them ever closer to bodily and spiritual merger.

As Legolas writhed to draw Elrohir closer, his husband uncorked a bottle of oil that he had held close by and sweet oil splashed upon his able fingers. Pausing only slightly to adjust his position, Elrohir slid the slickened fingers between the parted legs, rubbing slightly over the perineum until he reached the tight pucker. Gently he circled the finger around the rosette, pressing slightly on each turn. As he fondled the tight opening so he did not neglect the rod to which he had been so assiduously attending. Between the dual attentions, Legolas could no longer retain control and with a shout he released the rising seed in an orgasmic burst – and Elrohir swallowed eagerly.

Legolas floated upon the sensual haze, unable to focus on the continued ministrations of his husband. It was only after a few moments that he released that not one digit but two were ably massaging his dark channel. Lifting his head, he gazed with love at Elrohir, knowing that his melethron sought to ease their moment of true completion. As the fingers pressed upon his hidden inner gland, Legolas’s head fell back and he hissed.

"Aiya, Elrohir – what… how..!"

Elrohir grinned, moving up from his urgent ministrations on pulsing sex to ravage those panting lips. He ached, for his own shaft had received no such concentration of attention. Legolas grabbed him, pulling him flush to his own frame and necessitating that Elrohir abandoned his pillage of Legolas’ hole to in turn cradle his young spouse.

"No more waiting, my love," Legolas begged him. "No more, for I would know all of you. Garo nín, my Elf Knight!"

The fervent demand was not needed. Elrohir grasped his penis with his oiled hand, lubricating its length before preparing to enter his husband. Legolas raised his legs, crossing his ankles about Elrohir’s waist. Elrohir positioned himself but tried to resist when Legolas strained to pull him forward.

"Nay, my love – such haste will cause you hurt!"

The golden mane shook. "Be not a laggard, Elrohir – too long have I awaited this moment! No more will I linger in this half-bound state, for I would have all of you now! What is a little sting to the bliss that awaits us?"

Elrohir could resist no more and with one smooth thrust he slid home – for Legolas was his home, his heart, his everything. The velvet channel held him, then released in turn. He withdrew then entered once again, setting a rhythm that permitted him to control any potential hurt to his darling elf - yet with each stroke Legolas grasped him further to enhanced their ultimate bond. Lusty kisses and taunting caresses were interspersed with grunted oaths and ecstatic exclamations as each brush of shaft stroked the inner gland, driving them to the peak of all.

They moment was come, the pinnacle was reached. None could now gainsay their love for they were complete in an instant of breathtaking rapture. Explosions of colours, of sensations, of frazzling electrical storms raging within and without: they climaxed within a heartbeat of each other, claiming the rights of a married couple in the totality of mental and emotional heights. Tossed upon the heaving waves extending from groin to the outermost tip of fingers and toes, they held close to each other as if they had been cast adrift in stormy seas, two travelers in a journey that for them would never end.

In upon that room, through parted curtains, shone the bearer of the light of ages - of the harnessed glow of Telperion and Laurelin - and the happy smile of a satisfied ancestor who had answered a young elf’s pleas, and the then-unspoken desire of his grandson as wished for on that same balcony, fifty years before.

FIN

 

Elvish :

Ellon - male elf (sing.)  
Ada - daddy, father  
Adar - father  
tôren nín - my brother   
Edhel - elf (sing.)  
pen neth - little one  
Pen vuin - dear one  
Las díthen - little Leaf  
Peredhel - half-elf (sing.)  
Ellyn - male elves   
Bereth – spouse  
tôren neth – little brother  
Seron vell – beloved  
Uireb – forever  
Echado veleth enni – make love to me


End file.
